


Pending

by Lexa



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Injury, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexa/pseuds/Lexa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft finds Lestrade after Sherlock's death.</p>
<p>Not beta'd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pending

“Detective Inspector Lestrade?”

A slow shake of the head. “It's just Mister, not Detective Inspector. Pending.”

“I'm sorry.” Mycroft Holmes stepped closer, his eyes on the figure on the park bench. 

“I know you know, Mr. Holmes. You're just trying to draw me out. But have it your way. It's the same with Sher-.” Lestrade stopped, his head still down. “Pending an investigation into every case I brought him in on. Pending my suspension becoming a recommended 'retirement'. Pending my losing-” He took a deep breath. “Just- pending.”

Anthea had alerted Mycroft to Lestrade's location, saying he had been there for two hours in spite of the steady showers and wind. Something in her tone had made him look at the CCTV feed, then call for his car.

“You couldn't have known. None of us-”

“I don't understand it. Suicides, they do it cause they're sad. Or lonely. Or the world isn't what they want it to be or everything's too much for them. Even to say fuck you to everyone. But Sherlock, he never- Not in the worst I ever saw him with the drugs. He never hit the bottom like they can. I never had to worry about him overdosing on purpose. Even when this all happened. Even when I-”

“When you arrested him.”

Lestrade flinched and lowered his head more. “I tried to warn him. Called John, told him. I hoped he would have the sense to just run. He was always running, John trailing after. Why didn't he just run?” His hand came up and covered his eyes. “I should have done more. I should have stopped them. I just never consider he would do something like that.”

Mycroft was at a loss. He had never seen the Detective Inspector in such a state. He should get him home. But first-

“Det- Lestrade. How did you happen to come in possession of that gun?”

“It's John's. He brought it back from Afghanistan. I knew he had it, caught sight of it once at their flat. But I trusted him and turned a blind eye.” Lestrade looked up at Mycroft. “But I thought it would be better if he didn't have it just now.”

Mycroft was sure his countenance didn't show the alarm he felt on seeing Lestrade's face at last. The DI was going to have two black eyes come morning from the broken nose. His lip was split and swollen and there were cuts on his cheek and chin that had been washed by the rain. Mycroft looked at Lestrade's hands but saw no defensive wounds. “You let John hit you.”

“The door was open like always. Just went in, and looked where I figured the gun would be. Had it in my coat pocket when he came down from his room. He saw me and,” Lestrade shrugged. “It seemed the thing to do. Give him a release. Doubt he even suspected why I was there.”

“Is that where you lost your overcoat?”

“He grabbed it, I think. Heard a tearing, I don't know.” Lestrade's eyes shifted to stare at the empty park in front of him.

“You should have put the gun somewhere, not brought it out here. It would not do for you to be seen with it like that.”

“I was on my way home. Have a strongbox was going to put it in. But then I had to sit down. Just needed to rest, I reckon. Clear my head, maybe.”

Mycroft ventured a couple of steps closer. “The safety is on, I presume. I ask only cause of how you are handling it. I know you know better than to point any weapon toward yourself.” 

Lestrade reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the clip. “Did it when I started walking from the flat. They're all there. Half expected John to come running after me so I didn't want to take the chance.”

“I see. Perhaps you should give them to me. As I said, it would not do for you to be found in possession of a gun right now. I will keep it safe until you feel John can have it back.”

There was an almost chuckle. “When I feel he should. Not sure have that right.” He held the gun and clip out to Mycroft, his eyes still staring ahead. 

Mycroft reached for the weapon and almost dropped it as he touched Lestrade's hand. It was ice cold. He shoved the pieces in a pocket as he took a good look at the DI. There was a flush to the face and a look in the eye that had him reaching for his phone. A quick text off to Anthea then he turned and motioning for his driver to come help him move the DI. “Lestrade, come with me. You need to be out of this weather and to somewhere dry.” 

Mycroft reached out to grab an arm as his driver took hold of the other one. He angled his umbrella as best he could to cover them on the walk back to the car. Lestrade offered no resistance, if he was even aware of what was happening. 

A moment later and the car was heading toward Mycroft's residence. Not only was it closer, but in short order Anthea and a physician would be there. 

Lestrade continued to stare at nothing, his head leaning against the window. “I could see Sherlock not giving a thought to hurting me. Was little more than a babysitter to him. Handing him cases like sweets to keep him quiet. He had no reason to care about me. But he couldn't do that to John, could he? He'd never do that to his John.”

_Sherlock, do what must be done as quickly as you can. I fear the bullets would have been a kinder option, otherwise._

**Author's Note:**

> The use of 'his John' need not denote a romantic connotation. It can be used with regards to friends and family.


End file.
